Thou think'st, there are no more such shapes as he, Having seen but him and Caliban: Foolish wench! To the most of men this is a Caliban,

And they to him are angels.

Mira.

My affections

Are then most humble; I have no ambition

To see a goodlier man.

My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.
My father's loss, the weakness which I feel,
The wreck of all my friends, or this man's threats,
To whom I am subdu'd, are but light to me,
Might I but through my prison once a day
Behold this maid: all corners else o' the earth
Let liberty make use of; space enough

Have I, in such a prison.

Pro.

It works:-Come on.

Thou hast done well, fine Ariel!-Follow me.—

Hark, what thou else shalt do me.

Mira.

My father's of a better nature, sir,

[To Fer. and Mir. [To Ariel.

Be of comfort;

Than he appears by speech; this is unwonted,
Which now came from him.

Pro.

Thou shalt be as free

As mountain winds: but then exactly do
All points of my command.

Ari.

To the syllable.

Pro. Come, follow: speak not for him. [Exeunt.

ACT II. SCENE I.

Another Part of the Island.

Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO, ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and others.

Gon. 'Beseech you, sir, be merry: you have cause (So have we all) of joy; for our escape

Is much beyond our loss: Our hint of woe

Is common; every day, some sailor's wife,

The masters of some merchant, and the merchant,
Have just our theme of woe: but for the miracle,
I mean our preservation, few in millions
Can speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh
Our sorrow with our comfort.

Pr'ythee, peace.

Seb. He receives comfort like cold porridge.
Ant. The visitor 21 will not give him o'er so.

Seb. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit; by and by it will strike.

Gon. Sir,

Seb. One:--Tell.

Gon. When every grief is entertain'd, that's offer'd, Comes to the entertainer

Seb.

A dollar.

Gon. Dolour comes to him, indeed; you have spoken truer than you purpos'd.

Seb. You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.

Gon. Therefore, my lord,

Ant. Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!
Alon. I pr'ythee, spare.

Gon. Well, I have done : But yet—

Seb. He will be talking.

Ant. Which of them, he, or Adrian, for a good

wager, first begins to crow?

Seb. The old cock.

Ant. The cockrel.

Seb. Done: The wager?

Ant. A laughter.

Seb. A match.

Adr. Though this island seem to be desert,

Seb. Ha, ha, ha!

Ant. So you've pay'd.

Adr. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible,—

Seb. Yet,

Adr. Yet

Ant. He could not miss it.

Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate temperance.

Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench.

Seb. Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly deliver'd.

Adr. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly. Seb. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones.

Ant. Or, as 'twere perfum'd by a fen.

Gon. Here is every thing advantageous to life.

Ant. True; save means to live.

Seb. Of that there's none, or little.

Gon. How lush and lusty the grass looks? how

green?

Ant. The ground, indeed, is tawny.

Seb. With an eye of green in't.

Ant. He misses not much.

Seb. No; he doth but mistake the truth totally. Gon. But the rarity of it is (which is indeed almost beyond credit,)——

Seb. As many vouch'd rarities are.

Gon. That our garments, being, as they were, drench'd in the sea, hold notwithstanding their freshness, and glosses; being rather new dy'd, than stain'd with salt water.

Ant. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not say, he lies?

Seb. Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report.

Gon. Methinks, our garments are now as fresh as when we put them on first in Africk, at the marriage of the king's fair daughter Claribel to the king of Tunis.

Seb. 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well

in our return.

Adr. Tunis was never grac'd before with such a paragon to their queen.

Gon. Not since widow Dido's time.

Ant. Widow? a pox o' that! How came that widow in? Widow Dido!